BASEBALL

BASEBALL; Two Umpires Still Aren't Allowed to Forget

By JACK CURRY

Published: December 23, 1994

You tiptoe into the umpires' dressing room at any baseball stadium and three co-workers do not utter a syllable. You travel to the next city by yourself because no other umpire wants to share a cab to the airport or board the same flight. You arrive at the hotel and the reservation you made a month ago has been mysteriously canceled.

None of this treatment should really shock you because you crossed a picket line.

Fifteen seasons have passed since major league umpires went on strike, mostly for higher salaries based on service and for vacation breaks during the summer. The walkout caused the first seven weeks of the 1979 season to be manned by minor league and amateur umpires in the kind of scenario that might redevelop even more strikingly next spring if the baseball strike is still on and owners use replacement players to open the season.

Not only that, but umpires might again become a part of the festering baseball labor scene, for yesterday their union filed an unfair labor practice charge against both leagues, only nine days before their contract is scheduled to expire.

After the umpires' labor dispute in 1979 was settled and 50 regular umpires returned, 8 of the replacement umpires were retained. That angered the regulars. We will vilify them, some vowed.

"To this day, there are still hard feelings," said Don Denkinger, one of eight American League crew chiefs. "They say that time heals all wounds. I don't know if that's true in this situation."

Denkinger said the replacement umpires were harassed and routinely referred to as scabs for at least seven years. He said they were ignored off the field, meant to feel invisible and were not spoken to unless it was related to on-field work.

Only two of those eight replacements are still umpires, John Shulock and Derryl Cousins, and both are in the American League. Most of the harsh treatment had dissipated by the mid-1980's. Most, but not all.

"I think certain guys hold animosities a little deeper, like some of the old-timers," said Marty Springstead, the league's executive director of umpiring and a former umpire. "We've had so many people come in that they've let bygones be bygones."

But Springstead matter-of-factly called Shulock and Cousins scabs and pointed out that they are not union members. "I've never forgotten about it myself," he explained.

Now, dozens of minor league players could be thrust into the same precarious position as Shulock, Cousins and others were in 1979 as minor league umpires.

The possibility of replacement players in 1995 is real. Young players might be morally tested and asked to ignore the union's strike and jump to the majors. Some know it will be their last opportunity to achieve a dream. Some, like Shulock and Cousins did, will probably jump.

"As far as what happens to the players, that's their decision and it has nothing to do with me," said Shulock, who was reluctant to discuss the past. "They didn't interfere with what I had to do. No matter what I say on the matter, it's not going to affect what they're going to do."

Springstead, who retired in 1985 after 20 years of umpiring and who is concerned about the immediate future since the umpires' contract with baseball expires on Dec. 31, wondered if young players could afford not to be strike-breakers.

"I don't know that a young player would have a choice," Springstead said. "I don't know how he can say no. You know how many players are just hanging on? There are a lot of fringe players. What's the use of hanging onto a fringe player when he didn't help you when you needed help?"

Cousins was a 32-year-old minor league umpire who had spent six years in the Midwest, Carolina, Texas and Pacific Coast Leagues when the strike hit and his phone rang. One league official revealed that Cousins had already been bypassed as a possible major league umpire, so the strike was probably his only ticket ahead. Now Cousins has been an umpire for 15 years, working a nine-month job in which salaries range from $60,000 to $175,000, plus three weeks of summer vacation. He could retire in five years.

"If you look back on this, he would have never had this career," Denkinger said. "It was very advantageous for Derryl. It was an opportunity for him and it proved to be very successful."

Although Cousins was described as talkative and jolly, he did not wish to reminisce about his decision, the way he was treated or mistreated or offer insight to future players in a similarly awkward position.

"That's like older than the Berlin wall," Cousins said. "That thing is so old, it's not worth talking about. I wouldn't want to rehash any of that."

Shulock was a square-jawed 29-year-old who was considered the premier prospect in the American Association in 1979. A former minor league player for the Minnesota Twins, he also had earned 14 varsity letters at Vero Beach High School in Florida and was expected to make it to the majors as an umpire. It was only a matter of time.

The umpires' strike accelerated matters. Shulock ignored the picket lines and bolted to the majors after five minor league seasons. He enraged many regular umpires. Some had compassion for Cousins because they understood that his umpiring abilities were probably not enough to carry him to the majors under normal conditions. But all expressed disdain for Shulock, who was probably talented enough to make it the proper way.

"John felt, in his own mind, that he had to do it for his family," said Denkinger, who now travels and associates with Shulock in the same four-man crew. "He told me that. He felt it wouldn't have been fair to his family to turn it down. He chose that avenue and it worked out for him. I'd like to think that if it happened again they wouldn't do it. But when you look back at history, you see most people do the same things over again anyway."

Like Cousins, Shulock declined to elaborate on the decision. Maybe they have simply forgotten the past or maybe it is too painful to recall. Maybe some minor league players should call the two umpires for advice. Maybe not.

"Nineteen seventy-nine was a very long time ago and I prefer not to bring it up," Shulock said. "It's like beating a dead horse. I rarely ever discuss that with anyone."

Photo: John Shulock (29), who was considered a premier umpiring prospect while in the minor leagues, ignored the 1979 picket lines and enraged many regulars. (G. Paul Burnett/The New York Times)